


Slow And Steady

by Merixcil



Series: Snail Racing AU [1]
Category: GOT7, VIXX
Genre: M/M, Snails, snail racing AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 02:54:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taekwoon is a snail racer who's good but not quite good enough, and that's where Jackson comes in</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow And Steady

“Ready, set….go!”

Taekwoon takes his thumb off Mildred’s shell and steps away from the table. The rings of the bulls-eye race course fan out from the central pad where a circle of rather demure Garden Snails are beginning to shuffle over the starting line. 

This is a longer race than Mildred’s used to running, Taekwoon’s been angsting about whether or not they’re ready for the past two weeks but seeing them step over the red ring and into the primary race zone he knows he made the right decision. They’ve always made up for their lack of speed with a fantastically straight chosen path during competitions, but today they’re marching down the track as fast as their one little foot can carry them. 

Mildred makes it to the barrier of the first race zone in just under 90 seconds – the fastest they’ve ever covered that kind of distance. Taekwoon’s not one for rowdy cheering but he lets slip a smile and his fist clenches in glee. They might just have a chance at winning this, all they need to do is…

The whistle blows just as Mildred crosses the marker for the third race zone. Taekwoon looks round, confused. Surely no one could have been that much further ahead of them. 

His eyes fall upon two snails on the other side of the table that are both quite happily across the finish line. He doesn’t understand how they could have put in such a fast time, Mildred’s coming up third but they’re still seconds away from the end. 

“You did good.” Taekwoon mumbles, once Mildred’s time has been recorded and he’s been allowed to scoop them up into his palm. Their tentacles poke forward curiously and they creep up to touch them to his nose. 

The owner of the second place snail comes over and holds out a hand for Taekwoon to shake, “Kim Wonshik, nice to meet you. Good race!”

“Thanks,” Taekwoon smiles the friendliest smile he can manage. He desperately wants to ask what Mildred wasn’t doing to put them so far behind, but he’s never been good at talking to strangers and it looks like this boy might be about to explain everything of his own accord. 

“Couldn’t help noticing that your racer had a really clean line today. They’re lacking in the speed department though, I can probably help you with that.”

Bingo. 

Taekwoon holds out his hand to let the Wonshik get a better look at Mildred. His brows furrow and he makes a variety of all-knowing grunting noises before informing Taekwoon that he’s not feeding them right. 

Taekwoon rolls his eyes and moves on before the boy can say anything else. 

 

The next two hours pass in a haze of organic shell paint, slime enhancing drugs and calendars of Wu Yifan and his prize snail Bertha. Taekwoon hops from stall to stall, and is in the process of persuading himself not to fork out fifty thousand won on a month’s supply of ‘Hyper Snail Formula’ food when the announcement goes calling spectators to the final race of the day. 

The entire convention crowds towards the platform at the back of the hall, clamouring for space in the front few rows. A group of roadies wrestle cameras into place to display footage of the track to all the audience on the screens above the stage. 

Taekwoon watches the competitors step forward to prepare for the starting gun. First on the table is a snail with an elaborately decorated shell covered in remarkably complex graffiti designs. He recognises it immediately as the snail of the boy who won the race he was in earlier, and sure enough the name ‘Zico’ goes up on the board not a moment later. 

There are eight competitors for the final race, all of whom have won races throughout the day. They position themselves around the table, stretching to keep a finger on the shell of their snail and smiling as honestly as they can manage at each other. 

The whistle blows and the crowd goes wild. Taekwoon lets himself be jostled by the overexcited spectators on either side of him, but keeps his eyes firmly on the screen showing the progress of the race. 

These snails are good, amazing even. It takes the first snail less than thirsty seconds to cross the first race zone of six and they all make it across within the first minute. As they cross into the final zone it’s still all to play for and Taekwoon winds up holding his breath for an uncomfortably long time in anticipation of the final result. 

In the end, it’s Jessica’s snail that wins. Taekwoon can hardly say that he’s surprised, though it’s clear that Tablo is disappointed that he only came in second. Zico smiles wide enough but it’s pretty obvious that he was hoping for better than sixth and the boy who came in third is bouncing on the balls of his feet, throwing his arms around anyone who comes close enough to him. 

Taekwoon blinks, some people must just be that happy to be taking part. Jessica is awarded her blue ribbon and descends from the stage to mingle amongst a sea of well-wishers and admirers. He would go over and say something, but they’ve met a few times before and she never seems to remember him. 

Besides, he knows about everything he’s ever going to learn from Jessica, and Tablo has already vanished. If Taekwoon wants any decent racing tips he supposes he’s going to have to speak to the man who came in third place. 

Taekwoon approaches him as he’s leaving the stage, high fiving everyone in site regardless of whether or not they offer first. He does the same to Taekwoon and would move on without so much as a ‘by your leave’ if he wasn’t rather more focufeully stopped. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Taekwoon says, grabbing at the man’s shoulder harder than is probably polite. 

If he’s hurt, the man doesn’t show it. He turns around to face Taekwoon beaming, “What can I do for you?”

“I was just…” someone crashes into Taekwoon and he loses his train if throught, by the time he’s back on track the man is starting to move away again. 

He shoves a flyer under Taekwoon’s nose, “come to one of my classes sometime! You can ask me then.”

And with a flash of teeth the man vanishes completely into the crowd. Taekwoon looks down at the flyer – _The Jackson Wang School For Aspiring Snail Racers_. 

Mildred pokes their head out of his top pocket, tentacles straining forward. Taekwoon sighs,  
“Ok, but we’re only going once.”

 

Taekwoon has to climb three flights of stairs when he finally finds the right building, on account of the lift being out. The paint is peeling on the stairwell and the floor looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in a long time. If he hadn’t seen Jackson Wang in action already, he would have turned back a long time ago. This doesn’t look anything like a professional racing establishment and good snails require better hygiene than this. 

“Hey there! You came!” Taekwoon turns around to see the man from the convention – Jackson – coming up the stairs behind him, a large plastic tub tucked under one arm. 

Taekwoon sniffs and nods stiffly. Jackson beams, “Awesome! You’re a little early but you can help me out with Boris here,” he nods towards the tub. 

Taekwoon is led up a final flight of stairs and through three sets of doors to a large, empty white room. The floors in here are clean, the windows wide and there are a couple of tables with race tracks painted on them tucked up at the back. It still doesn’t look very professional, but it at least looks like a snail training school. 

“You wanted to talk to me the other day?” Jackson asks, setting the plastic tub down on the floor. 

“I wanted to ask about your training methods,” Taekwoon starts, “I like knowing how other people do it.”

“Well then you came to the right place!”

Jackson prizes the lid off the tub and reaches down to pull out an enormous snail with milky yellow flesh and a dusky brown shell. He sets it on his palm and smiles happily as it begins to crawl up his arm. 

Taekwooon gawps, “that’s…”

“An African Giant, yeah. Their name’s Boris.” Jackson stands up carefully and moves towards Taekwoon, “you can touch them if you like.”

Taekwoon reaches out to run a finger from Boris’s head to their shell. The snail doesn’t appear to be phased by the unfamiliar touch and continues to plough happily up Jackson’s arm. 

“JACKSON!!! I got us a new poster!” The door flies open and a girl in cargo shorts with close cropped hair comes marching in. Sure enough, there’s a poster rolled up neatly under her arm, but she unfolds it as soon as she’s face to face with Jackson. 

It’s a lifesized poster of Wu Yifan in his racing gear. He’s smiling winingly for the camera and his snail – an African Giant, like Boris though no doubt twice the size – the infamous Bertha is perched on top of his head. 

Jackson whistles, impressed, “nice going Amber! Stick it up wherever,”

“Don’t mind if I do!” Amber moves to go attach the poster to the wall and only then does she see Taekwoon. She starts for a moment but the next thing he knows she’s ringing his hand.

“Hey man I didn’t see you there! Are you gonna join our squad? What’s your name?”

“Easy Amber, he’s a little shy,”

“Let him speak for himself Jackson!”

Taekwoon does his best to shake Amber’s hand back, “my name’s Taekwoon. I just came to look around really…”

“Ah they all say that but everyone wants to be part of our club, here!” Amber presses a ball of blue tac into Taekwoon’s palm, “help me put this poster up.”

He supposes it would be rude to say no. 

 

Half an hour later, Jackson is talking them through an obstacle course designed to help improve the focus of their snails. He may not be the most professional of teachers and the class seems to be more a group of friends with a shared interest than anything else but it’s clear that once he starts talking snails, Jackson Wang knows what’s going on. 

“Why don’t you reverse the slalom and the ramp? That would leave more time for them to catch their breath before they move onto the water level,” a girl – Youngji – pipes up. 

Jackson pauses mid-sentence, obviously thrown off by this unforeseen interruption, “I-“

“Only that water level is going to be tough enough on the smaller snails as it is.”

“Mildred’s fine, she likes swimming,” Taekwoon mutters. 

Jackson beams, “see? Everything will be fine Youngji, and we’ll all be here to help out if any of the snails start to struggle.”

They take it in turns to send their snails down the course. Boris goes first, treading his way doggedly around obstacles designed for smaller snails but making a good time nonetheless. Then Bambam sends his Roman Snail, Tabitha round and Min her Turkish Snail, Oswald. They have a temporary setback when Jaewhan’s snail, clad as it is in a ridiculously cumbersome racing helmet, can’t manage the slope without some assistance but they get through it and then it’s Taekwoon and Mildred’s turn. 

“They’re a cute little garden snail, how long have you had them?” Amber asks, watching Mildred weave between matchsticks. 

“Only a couple of years now, I used to train pond snails when I was a teenager but I lost my biggest winner in the local river one summer and decided to go terrestrial.”

“Sorry about your pond snail,” Bambam shakes his head sympathetically, “that’s rough.”

Taekwoon shrugs, “just gotta hope they’re happy out there.”

Mildred makes a pretty good time for such a small snail and they take the water stage on with gusto. Taekwoon even lets himself let out a tiny woop of delight when their time comes in as just shy of Oslwald’s to take second place.

“Is everyone feeling nice and limber?” Jackson asks, wiggling his eyebrows ferociously. 

Jaehwan salutes in the affirmative but Min just rolls her eyes. Taekwoon rather suspects that racing prowess aside, Jackson isn’t someone it’s worth taking too seriously. 

Jackson dashes over to the back of the hall and starts to drag the largest of the race tables forward, it’s obviously heavy but he manages just fine on his own. Even in a baggy t-shirt it’s obvious that he has muscular arms and where there are muscular arms…

Taekwoon stops himself before he can get too far with that train of thought, thinking like that only leads to trouble. 

“Let’s get started!” Jackson slaps the table and everyone scrambles into position, Taekwoon finds himself a space between Bambam and Amber and places Mildred on the starting circle. It’s highly unusual to be racing so many species against each other, but he supposes that to point as much out would be to spoil the fun. 

 

It doesn’t take long for Taekwoon to become a valued member of _The Jackson Wang School For Aspiring Snail Racers_. It’s as much a means for socialising as improving one’s racing technique, but he can’t deny that he and Mildred are learning here, and Jackson only asks them for a token fee of five thousand won every two months to keep the landlady happy. 

“Make sure you clean up after yourselves! Even if I have to kick you useless layabouts out I want this space suitable for snail racers!” said landlady grumbles as she tries to rearrange the racing tables into some kind of order. Taekwoon silently supports her in her endeavours but he also knows that Jackson will put them back any which way that fits. 

“We will, don’t worry! C’mon Gukjoo I’ll deal with the tables later, come and have some cake,” Jackson whines, shimmying closer to Taekwoon in an effort to let her into the circle.  
Gukjoo sighs and rolls her eyes but no sooner has she settled on the floor with a slice of the ridiculously rich chocolate cake that Jackson is treating them all to than she is smiling again, charging head first into a witty back and forth with Youngji. 

The circle is rather cramped with an extra person. Jackson shuffles backwards far enough into his personal space that Taekwoon’s tempted to say something, but before he can Jackson has leant his head on his shoulder and at that point he’s here to stay. 

It’s nice, Taekwoon thinks. He’s not very good at dealing with proximity to people but this is easy. Jackson never makes a big deal out of showering his friends with physical affection and he always lets go the second he’s asked. He’s safe. 

Jaewhan flops down onto Taekwoon’s other shoulder, whining about how Mildred never wants anything to do with Bertie. He’s shrugged off five seconds later but Jackson gets to stay. 

 

“I was thinking of getting us some jackets made, so we can look like a team when we go to competitions!” Jackson says around the bright purple lollipop currently staining his lips. He’s dragged Taekwoon out to the mall under the proviso that everyone else would be here but only the two of them had shown up. 

Jackson steers them both through a dizzying network of high street stores and overlarge boutiques till they reach a shop advertising ‘customisable clothing for schools and sportsteams’, the front window of which is piled high with varsity jackets and tshirts proudly declaring loyalty to what Taekwoon can only assure are a variety of local schools. A bell tinkles above his head as the doors open and the lone teenager at the till looks up from their phone. 

“Need any help?” 

Jackson grabs Taekwoon by the arm and marches them both up to the counter, chest puffed out like he’s the proudest dad on earth “We’re gonna need six snail racing jackets! This design”  
Jackson slides a piece of paper and the boy, ‘Sanghyuk’ according to his name tag, looks at it for a minute like he’s not sure it’s a good idea. 

“It’ll take a couple of weeks to get them made. If you give me your name and number we’ll call you when they’re done and you can come pick them up, or for an extra fee we can send them straight to your address.”

“Nah, I’ll come get them,” 

Jackson hums happily as he fills out his details on the form that Sanhyuk passes him and Taekwoon’s eyes rove around the shop. There are a certain number of football shirts and cricket whites emblazoned with the emblems of teams he’s never even heard of but there are also a fair few snail racing jackets scattered in amongst them. They’re longer than a typical sports jersey and made out of a special plastic that is both smooth enough for a snail to move on and packs enough friction to stop them falling off. Some of the more expensive ones come with pre-installed mini-tanks for keeping your snails on your person as you move from place to place. 

“Let’s go!” Jackson pops up at Taekwoon’s shoulder and links their arms. Taekwoon doesn’t object as he’s led out of the shop and across the aisle to an ice cream café. 

Jackson pays for everything, and when he texts them later Taekwoon discovers that neither Min nor Jaehwan was ever told that they were all supposed to meet at the mall. 

 

“Can I talk to you?” 

Jackson looks up from where he’s shining Boris' shell as the enormous snail sits happily in an extra damp peat to wet it before the race. They’re competing in a tournament for larger snails only, and as Jackson is the only one of their little unit who owns a large snail he’s the only one taking part. The rest of them have all shown up in support though, even Gukjoo has tagged along, pointing out flaws in the competitor’s racing technique and slamming the wide variety of accessories on show as useless with the kind of flair that makes Taekwoon wonder if she doesn’t have a history in the sport.

“Can it wait? I’ve only got five minutes before we’re supposed to go on.”

Taekwoon purses his lips and snatched the shell polish out of Jackson’s hands. 

Jackson looks nonplussed “What the-“

“If you’re really that short on time let me shine their shell while you sort their food out, ok?”

For a moment Jackson watches Taekwoon scrub excess polish from the dent at the top of Boris' shell, but with a wave he is dismissed to the food station on the other side of the room. 

“What did you want to ask me?” Jackson asks, returning with an almighty stack of cabbage leaves and energy pellets. His voice is uncharacteristically quiet, like he cares about whether or not anyone hears them talking. 

Taekwoon’s voice is always quiet, he doesn’t need to force it, “at the weekend, when we went to order the jackets…”

“Yeah”

“You said that you invited everyone along for that.”

“Yeah…” Jackson’s eyes are very firmly fixed on the pile of snail food in his hands. 

“I asked around and no one else knows anything about this. You only asked me.”

Jackson says nothing, but when he looks up Taekwoon can see that he’s blushing. 

He frowns. For Jackson, that’s highly out of character. 

“Hey!” Taekwoon drops the shell polish and stands up straight. He has to wait for Jackson to meet his gaze and when he does it’s with a sheepish expression and a handful of cabbage leaves torn preposterously tiny.

Jackson takes a deep breath, “listen, Taekwoon…”

“TWO MINUTES TILL THE RACE STARTS! ALL NON COMPETITORS OUT OF THIS AREA!” the convener bellows. His voice is unnervingly loud, causing Taekwoon to jump. 

A flash of a frown crosses Jackson’s face, “Hakyeon can you give us a couple more-“

“NOW!” Hakyeon snaps. 

Jackson gives Taekwoon an apologetic half smile and points him to the door, “we’ll talk later.”

Back amongst the spectators, Taekwoon soon finds the rest of _The Jackson Wang School For Aspiring Snail Racers_ bunched together on Jackson’s side of the race track. He drops into the seat next to Bambam and proceeds to wait in silence for the competitors to take to the stage. 

Evidently something in his countenance is off, as he’s barely been sat down for two seconds before Min is reaching over to poke him in the side, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Taekwoon huffs. 

Everyone breaks out into a chorus of whoops and cheers to indicate that they do not believe him in the slightest. Amber tips her head back to cackle and Youngji nearly falls off her chair in excitement. 

Taekwoon scowls, “Really, I’m-“

“Tell us everything!” Min stamps her foot to drive the point home, “Did you say something silly? Did Jackson say something silly? Did he finally ask you what he was supposed to ask you on Saturday?”

Blinking, Taekwoon looks between the six eager faces before him, “Saturday…?”

“At the mall!”

“You told me you didn’t know about that!” Taekwoon yelps, “you said Jackson didn’t tell you anything.” 

“Oh, Jackson told us everything,” Bambam wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and receives a cuff to the back of the head from Youngji in retribution. 

“So tell us, Taekwoon, what happened on your little date?” Gukjoo creeps up behind him faster than he was anticipating and before he knows what’s what, there are a firm pair of hands at his shoulders.

“It wasn’t a date!”

Min snickers, “you sure about that?”

Around them, the crowd starts to cheer and all matters of the heart fade to insignificance in the wake of the competitors as they take to the stage. Jackson makes a huge show of throwing everyone hearts but he pays special attention to the six of them as they unfold a large ‘They Don’t Call Him King For Nothing’ banner in support. 

Taekwoon’s not sure if he imagines Jackson’s eyes seeking him out or if he’s just been put on high alert to a possibility that he would be hesitant to define as entirely alarming or intriguing. The wink that Jackson sends him when Boris sails across the finish line in first place is significantly less ambiguous. 

 

Climbing the stairs to Jackson’s apartment is strikingly reminiscent of his first morning at _The Jackson Wang School For Aspiring Snail Racers_. The stairway is a little cleaner and it looks less like an abandoned tower block, but the elevator is out and Taekwoon strongly suspects he has no idea what he’s getting himself into. 

Jackson answers the door in what looks to be pyjamas, though Taekwoon reminds himself that baggy tracksuit bottoms and tank tops are in regular rotation in Jackson's wardrobe. He steps aside and lets Taekwoon in with a smile, immediately going off on a spiel about the big snail meet they’re planning on going to in two weeks’ time and how if they don’t have their team jackets by then he’s going to be having words with Sanghyuk’s manager. 

Taekwoon smiles and nods, grunting ‘yes’ and ‘no’ at all the right moments. It’s not that Jackson’s not interesting, but sometimes you just have to let him talk. He follows his host through a somewhat shabby, yet tidy living room, to a kitchen barely big enough for a dining table and has a mug of tea pressed into his hands almost immediately. 

“…and basically I’m just very impatient.” Jackson takes a slurp of his tea and immediately has to spit it back out again on the grounds that it’s too hot. 

Blowing the steam off his own tea to cool it, Taekwoon laughs under his breath. Jackson pouts like he’s wounded but can’t keep it up for long, no matter what he does his face always resolves into a smile if you give it a moment. 

“Did you bring Mildred?” Jackson asks. 

Taekwoon nods and reaches into his bag to pull out the small travelling tank containing his snail. Mildred’s grown a little in the past month, perhaps as a result of all the excess food they’re given by Jackson, but they’re still tiny compares to Boris.

The funny thing is, the first time Taekwoon saw Jackson race, it wasn’t with Boris at all, but a small Garden Snail just like Mildred. This other snail never seems to make an appearance at practices however and Jackson never mentions it. It’s as if the only snail that exists in Jackson’s immediate vision is the enormous African Giant.

Picking up his mug, Jackson nods in the direction of a closed door at the back of the kitchen, “C’mon, I have something to show you.”

Taekwoon follows, clutching his tea in both hands. Jackson reaches into his pocket to pull out a key for the door and lets them both through into the kind of room most snail racers only ever get to dream of. 

It’s not a large room, and by the standards of the rest of the house it’s a little dingy. The presence of a small window on the far wall makes it look like it was perhaps once a second bedroom but under normal circumstances it wouldn’t be the nicest space. These are not normal circumstances however, and as Taekwoon steps into the centre of the room his jaw drops in wonder. 

Lining the wall, from floor to ceiling, are dozens of tanks, each once containing a different snail. Taekwoon immediately recognises Boris, at eye level by the door but they’re not the only African Giant in Jackson’s collection. There are a couple of other smaller specimens dotted amongst the smaller species and if he’s not much mistaken one of the nursery tanks on the top shelf is full to bursting with fresh hatchlings. There are Garden Snails, Gold Coast Snails, Blonde Snails, Roman Snails and Turkish Snails, and a variety of snails that Taekwoon couldn’t even put a species to. 

Taekwoon supposes that with a collection like this it's only natural that Jackson sometimes has more time for some snails than others. 

And right at the back, in the largest tank in the room, is something that Taekwoon never thought he’d chance to see in a racers menagerie. 

“Oh my god, is that what I think it is?”

“Doris? They’re a Ghanaian Tiger Snail,” Jackson grins. 

“I can see that,” Taekwoon leans down to get a closer look at the specimen. It’s stretched out, beginning to wind up the side of the tank, perfect to display it’s body which must be over a foot long. It’s shell is brightly coloured, and if Taekwoon had to guess he’d say iit came in at twenty centimetres, “they’re beautiful.”

Jackson nods, “they are, but I can’t race them. Ghanainan Tiger Snails are hard to get hold of here and there’s a fare few professional racers who are too scared to touch them. It’s a shame really, Doris is a sweetie.”

“Can I hold them?”

“Sure, if you go sit in the living room I’ll bring them through.”

Taekwoon shuffles back through the kitchen to the living room where he plops himself down on the surprisingly squishy couch and waits to be joined by Jackson and Doris. He’s glad for the mug of tea, occupying his hands and making him feel less like an out of place piece of furniture in the unfamiliar room. 

“Here they are!” Jackson comes into the room with Doris perched on his arm. They look even bigger outside of the dark backroom, the orange of their shell more striking and the sheer size of their body more evident. 

Taekwoon’s eyes widen and Jackson laughs, “Not scared are you?”

“Not at all, they’re just…wow”

“I know,” Jackson grins, sitting himself down on the couch. Taekwoon reaches out to touch Doris’s body but retracts his hand instantly when the snail’s tentacles shoot back into their head. 

“I don’t think they like me.”

“They’re a little shy, but they like everyone. You just have to give them a chance to meet you on your own terms. Here,” Jackson uses his free hand to tug at Taekwoon’s sleeves, “roll these up and you guys can say hello properly.”

Taekwoon puts down his tea and does as he’s bid. He doesn’t know what the second step of this process might involve however so sits with his arms crooked in his lap, waiting for further instruction while Jackson runs his fingers distractedly over Doris’s shell. 

“So…” Taekwoon starts. 

Jackson jumps a little, clearly he had been more distracted than he looks, and grins sheepishly at Taekwoon.

“Just grab my hand and with any luck they’ll crawl onto you of their own accord. And if not I have some lettuce down here that I’m sure we could use as an incentive.”

Jackson reaches forward and wraps his fingers around Taekwoon’s wrist, Taekwoon does the same to Jackson and then they sit back, waiting for Doris to make her move. 

This involves falling into silence. Taekwoon’s not the best at judging the social merits of prolonged periods without speech, but he’s pretty sure this is awkward.

Jackson huffs, “Sooooo…”

Yhup, definitely awkward. 

“Min said it was supposed to be a date.” The second the words are out of Taekwoon’s mouth he has no idea why he said them. Jackson’s eyes widen in alarm and he makes a sort of chocking noise at the back of his throat. If Taekwoon had been trying to make the situation less awkward he has failed spectaculary.

A blush begins to sweep Jackson’s cheeks, “Look…I don’t-“

“I don’t mind. If it was a date I mean,” Taekwoon mumbles, looking anywhere but at Jackson, “but you have to tell me these things. I’m no good at working shit like that out by myself.”

Jackson visibly swallows whatever he might have been about to say and nods, though the blush is burning bright pink now, “just to be clear, we’re talking about the mall last weekend?”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah that was supposed to be a date. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“No I should be sorry,” Jackson sighs, head falling back against the couch, “I shouldn’t have tricked you like that.”

Taekwoon allows himself a smile, “kind of a bad trick if I didn’t even realise what was going on.”

“Touché. Would you have come if I’d told you though?”

“I dunno. Probably, but I’d have been really awkward if I’d known it was a date, and there’s no way I’d have let you pay for all that ice cream.”

“You’re saying that I spent money I didn’t have to spend?” Jackson’s eyebrows raise in mock indignation, “how dare you unknowingly take advantage of me like that!”

“I’ll make it up to you sometime.” Taekwoon smiles over at Jackson just as Doris begins to walk across the bridge of their hands. He jumps a little at the first touch of cool slime on his skin, having almost forgotten that the snail was there. 

Jackson sits forward, “seriously?”

Taekwoon shrugs, “well yeah I mean you’re nice, we have common interests, and I don’t spend the majority of my time around you wishing you’d shut up. Which is actually kind of astonishing.”

“Yeah, I guess Jaewhwan can be...”

“Don’t even start.”

Doris storms on up Taekwoon’s arm. They’re absolutely huge, and he’s a little worried that they’re going to reach the point he’s rolled his sleeves to and continue onto his jumper. It’s new and he’d really like to not ruin it with snail slime if at all possible, plus it’s liable to dry Doris out rather quickly. 

“Here, lemme just…” Jackson grabs a couple of lettuce leaves and tucks them into the end of Taekwoon’s sleeves, “there that ought to keep them busy if they get that far.”

“Hmm” 

The thing about Jackson sticking the lettuce leaves into his sleeve is that it requires him moving further into Taekwoon’s personal space. They’re holding hands on the couch, sharing the weight of a colossal snail, and as their eyes lock Taekwoon realises their faces are mere inches apart. 

Jackson’s eyes flick noticeably to Taekwoon’s lips, “um…”

Taekwoon rolls his eyes and leans in the rest of the way to press his lips against Jackson’s, quickly but firmly. Like a promise of things to come. 

Jackson blinks at him, confused. 

“You wanted to kiss me,” Taekwoon shrugs, “I figured I’d save you the wait.”

“Yeah! But…I wanted to kiss you _better_ than that.”

“You will!” Taekwoon smiles, touching a finger to Doris’ head and internally whooping when they don’t retract their tentacles, “but this afternoon is about this magnificent mollusc.”

Jackson huffs to himself good naturedly, laughing when Doris slips up onto Taekwoon’s jumper without paying the lettuce any mind. 

 

Taekwoon steps off the stage and into a whirlwind of congratulations and congratulatory back thumps. Some of it’s from friends, or at least people he’s spoken to at various racing conventions, but most of it’s from complete strangers. 

He silently thanks Amber when she grabs his arm and drags him through the crowd, shouting for everyone to step aside, “got a big star coming through!”

“I’m not a big star!” he whines when they’re through the worst of it. 

Ambeer shrugs, “you get mobbed like a star don’t you?”

“That’s just because-“

“YOU WON!!!” Bambam shrieks, launching himself high enough to latch onto Taekwoon’s neck and stay there, “YOU WON YOU WON YOU WON!!!! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!!”

To Taekwoon’s relief, Min pulls him off almost immediately, “get down from there! And well done Taekwoon you did great.”

“ _He_ did great? He didn’t do anything at all! I wanna see the snail of the hour, where’s Mildred?” Youngji asks, appearing out of nowhere under Taekwoon’s nose. 

Mildred chooses this moment to stick her head out of the top pocket of Taekwoon’s jacket. He knows that they don’t have any facial features, but he likes to think that they’re smiling. 

“Naww!! They’re so cute!” Jaehwan coos, holding out his hand for Mildred to climb onto, “do you think they’d like to breed with Austin?”

“Austin is a different species to Mildred Jaehwan”

“So?”

“So I don’t think they’d like to breed together. I’m very sorry.” Taekwoon scoops Mildred out of his pocket and places them on the palm of his hand before Jaehwan can do anything untoward with them. 

They walk off together as a group to browse the stalls lining the back of the auditorium. It’s the same sets of ‘revolutionary’ new accessories and ‘new formula’ snail food that’s always on show at this type of event, but they need to kill time before Amber and Bruno race and they figure it would be in their best interests to go and say hello to Gukjoo, who’s wound up on the door selling tickets. 

Her face breaks into an almighty grin when she hears the news, “Ah, Jackson always said you’d make a good racer! It’s a shame he couldn’t be here this afternoon to see you win.”

“Hopefully it’ll be a little extra incentive for him to show up next time,” Amber titters. Taekwoon’s given up trying to stop them giggling at every available opportunity, apparently the concept of him and Jackson dating is unutterably hilarious to all and sundry. 

“I’ll be seeing him tonight after he’s finished work, I can tell him all about it then.”

“He’s gonna be gutted he missed it.”

Taekwoon smiles the most suggestive smile he’s capable and Bambam nearly jumps out of his skin, “exactly.”

“Well you better have a photo of the new uniform to take with you when you see him. He’s been so excited about these damn jackets, I’m pretty sure that you lot wearing synchronised clothing is more important to him than winning races,” Gukjoo holds out her hand for Taekwoon’s phone and he complies. She’s absolutely right, Jackson would be devastated if he arrived at Taekwoon’s apartment that night with no team photo for him to scream ‘squad’ at. 

They line up in no particular order, because there’s only so much synchronicity that _The Jackson Wang School For Aspiring Snail Racers_ can manage in one day, and stand for a front shot and a back shot. Taekwoon takes his phone back and flicks through the photos of the six of them in their ridiculous bright pink jackets, and thinks that maybe putting a fluorescent orange snail on the backs of them wasn’t the best aesthetic decision Jackson ever made. Still, he’s going to love them, and Taekwoon can’t deny that the mental image of Jackson jumping for joy over a set of ugly snail racing jackets makes him smile to himself.

Taekwoon peers down at Mildred, still sitting in his palm, “funny how things work out, don’t you think friend?”

And of course Mildred can’t speak, but if they could Taekwoon knows that they’d be laughing at him. Good natured, friendly laughter, twice as loud as anything Amber can manage.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Written for the wonderful [Anna](http://kuopyo.tumblr.com/).  
> \- Snails are hermaphrodytic animals and gender means less than nothing to them, hence the gender neutral pronouns.  
> \- After much research I can confirm that snail racing tracks are circular with the contestants starting in the centre and working towards the edge


End file.
